


For Sanity's Sake

by DeadShips



Category: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha Dick Grayson Week, Alpha Duke Thomas, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Nesting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Jason Todd, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24385477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadShips/pseuds/DeadShips
Summary: This time when he was moving through the house it was with much more intent in his step. He wanted to waste as little time as he could when he still had to clock in at seven. He was bolting up the stairs with abandon, so intent on changing as fast as humanly possible that he’d almost missed the figure coming towards him in the shadows of the hallway. If not for the sleepy “Hey Dick” that he’d gotten in passing, he may not had even stopped.The whole point of coming to the manor was to give as much as attention as he craved, so it shouldn’t surprise him that he’d run into someone sooner or later – wasn’t that what he wanted? That was nothing compared to the pure shock that the person he almost let pass right by him was Duke of all people.--After isolating himself for so long, Dick is starting to feel like he's going off the deep end. He needs to ground himself with familiarity and pack if he wants to keep his head on straight.
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Duke Thomas, Dick Grayson/Jason Todd, Duke Thomas & Jason Todd
Comments: 26
Kudos: 230
Collections: Alpha Dick Grayson Week 2020





	For Sanity's Sake

**Author's Note:**

> For Alpah Dick Grayson Week Day Two: Nesting
> 
> Have a little fluff and angst for this joyous day.

Dick doesn’t startle awake whenever the nightmares hit, at least not any more. It was rare that he had them these days. More often than not, the things that were happening around him at any given time was far more terrifying than anything his subconscious could weave together. When he first came to the manner, it was a near every night affair, and every night without fail Bruce was there with his low alpha timbre in his ear and the safe enclosure of his arms. As he grew older and his dreams faded from that one night at the bigtop, they would evolve into repeats of some of his worst nights out as Robin; merciless and convoluted versions of what took place before they showed up, if they hadn’t gotten there just in the nick of time. Sometimes they were about watching Bruce be taken from him within a blink of an eye, and when he’d become a Titan the death of his teammates. On those really dark nights, they were of the voice that he adored most, of being thrown out onto the streets with every unsung insecurity being tapped into expertly.

Dick stopped dreaming like that a long time ago, much less to bolt up in bed with a sweat at his brow. Somewhere along the way things had become so muted that when he woke all he needed was a few seconds to really gather that he was awake and he’d roll back over without a second of hesitation. It was funny to think about how much the coping process changed over the years; going from needing to be covered in the earthy patchouli scent just as much as he needed the arms around him, to settling for simply hearing the soothing voice of the alpha through the phone in the dead of night, and finally just opening his eyes. A part of him would say that he should be worried with the developing behavior, that this was unhealthy as it was abnormal. An even smaller part of him would argue that he was a very capable alpha, one that needn’t be coddled by his sire – he was Nightwing of Bludhaven for crying out loud! The bigger part of him, the part that was ingrained in him so fully from the beginning, was upset that he was even going to lose any precious amounts of sleep and REM cycle to a little bump in his dreams.

Nightmares weren’t something he necessarily worried himself with, being more of a nuisance than anything. But tonight, of all nights, when Dick woke it was with a shout on his lips and a jolt in his chest that he thought may signal arrest. He gulped down lungfuls of air like he was suffocating – as if he’d been holding his breath in the final moments before he woke. No matter how many times that he blinked the world around him wasn’t coming back to him, he couldn’t place where he was and if he was supposed to be there. Scents mixed and soured around him to the point of inducing nausea, the surface below him wouldn’t stop shaking, wouldn’t stop shaking, _wouldn’t stop._

Hours of wracking his brain for every controlled breathing exercise and meditation before he’d finally be calming enough that he could see past the haze of wet eyelashes, to the white doors of his closet in front of his bed, to the low glow of the clock at his bedside table. Hours, when really it was mere minutes for him to calm down enough to realise that his body was trembling down to his toes, not the earth moving and not some trauma hallucination. For the first time in a long time, Dick couldn’t bring himself to be upset, let alone roll over to go back to sleep when his heart was still hammering away in his chest. With the way that his skin was starting to feel cold, he must be have started up quite a sweat. Disoriented, tired, and now completely disgusting he knew he couldn’t just stay in bed – so much for taking an easy night.

Getting onto his feet wasn’t as graceful of a movement as it would be any other day of the week. His body felt heavy and his feet clumsy when he started for the bathroom, feeling up the wall for the light switch far longer than warranted for someone who’s lived three years in the same place. He caught a whiff of himself when he’d stripped his shirt and turned the shower knob, good lord he was rank. His face scrunched as he turned away from the odor, smelling like he just came home from a humid mission more than stumbling out of bed. The shower, was not at all satisfying. The water pressure was shitty and the water lukewarm at best, something he wouldn’t normally complain about, but tonight he was grunting and groaning as he scrubbed himself quickly, fussing with his towel for being too damp as he’d neglected hanging it yet again (the last of his towels, as he’d neglected laundry day by a full week now) just for it to end up back on the floor. It wasn’t even two yet. If he would have gone out tonight he’d still be in the middle of his patrols.

What he should be doing, is gathering up all of his soiled laundry and bedding for their long needed wash, go over case files that he’d been needing to get around to, or in the very least stretch his suddenly weary muscles. Instead kicking around the clothing that he let overflow the hamper was only making him all the more upset. The thought of hunkering down in front of his own computer was enough to have his skin crawl. Another look at the clock. It _was_ only two.

One moment he’s cursing at his own negligence, and the next he’s pulling on his last pair of clean underwear, a pair of jeans that looked halfway clean, and his BHPD wind breaker, completely forgoing the shirt underneath. He wasn’t going to think about what he was doing when he was slipping into his boots or getting his keys in hand. He wasn’t going to think about what it would mean to show up at this hour (though a completely normal hour by their standards) on nothing more than a whim. Because if he thought about it for too long, he wasn’t going to steer himself back into a miserable ball in his room until he suffocated from it. Instead he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of some peppy pop song that came on when he turned on the car. Instead he thought about what stores would still be open when he was turning onto the highway, about what he could pick up instead of showing empty handed. The twenty-four hour coffee-shop past the museum sold these most amazing little coffee cakes, they were meant to be sweet enough to cut through the bitter taste of their coffee, but by themselves with a little whipped cream? Pure heaven. A little ambitious to be getting four of every flavor they had, but hey, it was a special occasion. Special enough to use the sleek black card connected to the old wealth of the Waynes.

His mood was already improving when Alfred buzzed him in at the gates instead of Dick having to enter in his gate code, confirming that this was prime bat operating hours. It was too late to back out now even if he wanted to, not with the old beta waiting for him at the door as he pulled into the gravel driveway. Dick would almost be sorry with the subtly concerned arch of his brow if not for the unimpressed expression it gave way to the moment that he’d seen the bag in his hands.

“Master Dick, you are far too old to be sneaking out on account of your sweet tooth.” The beta chided, Dick had the decency to duck his head like a scolded pup even if his smile grew wicked.

“It’s not sneaking out if I’m grown.” He would argue back, knowing that it didn’t matter what came out of his mouth. Alfred’s silent twitch of his mustache was snark enough. Bruce may be the alpha of this pack, but what _Alfred_ said goes. Which is exactly why he was toeing off his boots and getting them out of the walkway before he moved another inch into the manor.

Not that it permitted him entrance, with the little sigh that quickly sounded when he tried. “It’s fine, I can carry the bag myself Alf.”

“While I am sure you are capable sir, you aren’t following house rules.”

Not following house rules – oh! Sheepishly, Dick fumbled with the collar of the windbreaker that he’d yet to remove. “ ‘fraid that I don’t have anything on underneath.” That look now that Alfred was giving him could shrink him back down to the quiet pup that first came to the manor. If he wasn’t ashamed of the state of his chores before, he certainly was now. “I’ll drop this off in the kitchen and head upstairs for a shirt.”

“See to it that you do Master Dick, and while you’re at it find a pair of bottoms that aren’t ruined.”

To think that he would get away with his haphazardly put together outfit was foolish from the start. Dick knew better than to show up the way he did and he’d gone and done it anyway. Even scolded and retreating the kitchen from Alfred’s ire and he wasn’t entirely sorry for his actions (minor infractions at best). If anything it felt like what he needed. It was that little knock on the hierarchy ladder that he sought out when he left his nightmares behind in Bludhaven, that familiarity of pack that warmed his chest for the first time in weeks.

While they could handle it better than other castes, alpha were not meant to be isolated from pack for long. Without an order to hold, without having something to cater to – anyone who said that this was strictly an omega thing needed a full lobotomy – alpha grew restless, paranoid and often jumped the over protective gun whenever they found themselves in a position to help others. Beyond that? Alpha who isolated from their instincts, from being a protector of pack, grew agitated and aggressive. In extreme cases, falling to a state of mind dubbed ‘Manic Alpha Disorder’. A subhuman sort of existence that thrived on predatory instincts, seeing threat in anything shy of submission. It was rare, so few cases recorded over the last few centuries that it remained more of an old maiden’s tale. An alpha that displayed the traits of a rabid dog was better off put down than studied. Logically, Dick was hardly far enough into his isolation to start to feel the pull of strained bonds, nowhere near dropping into a MAD case. He could go another few months of minimal contact without risking his humanity. That didn’t mean the thrum in his veins was any less painful, that more and more now when he was out as Nightwing he didn’t feel his alpha try to claw it’s way to the surface with the people that he saved. A croon too sad for the startled pups, temper too testy with any would-be threat.

The swing of overwhelming instinct and level headed decision making was turning him into a liability than the compassionate vigilante he set out to be. It was one thing to have an off day, it was another entirely to wake from a nightmare that drove him straight home.

This visit was for his sanity. It wasn’t an indicator of failure. Dick could still be an independent alpha as well as a member of this pack. He wasn’t crawling back to Bruce.

Or so, that’s what he was going to tell himself.

The kitchen much to his surprise, was empty. Here he’d wrangled together a little speech on his sudden appearance in the house and the sweet gifts that he was bestowing upon them on the way from the front door. It was a little disheartening to see the room dark and empty, looking more like a shell of what it’s meant to be. It was only a quarter to three in the middle of the week, there couldn’t possibly so much groundside as to warrant to an empty manor. Perhaps they were still in the cave, debriefing and showering before setting foot upstairs. If they were so busy in the cave, he and his cakes would just have to make the trek down there – after changing his clothing of course. Eager as he may be to see another lifeform, he wasn’t full of self hatred enough not to abide by Alfred.

This time when he was moving through the house it was with much more intent in his step. He wanted to waste as little time as he could when he still had to clock in at seven. He was bolting up the stairs with abandon, so intent on changing as fast as humanly possible that he’d almost missed the figure coming towards him in the shadows of the hallway. If not for the sleepy _“Hey Dick”_ that he’d gotten in passing, he may not had even stopped.

The whole point of coming to the manor was to give as much as attention as he craved, so it shouldn’t surprise him that he’d run into someone sooner or later – wasn’t that what he wanted? That was nothing compared to the pure shock that the person he almost let pass right by him was Duke of all people. That was peculiar enough to halt the grand search for clothing, as Duke lived with his uncle in the city.

“Duke, that’s you isn’t it?” He called back, just in case that he was a lot further gone than he’d initially thought, that he wasn’t speaking to some ghost roaming the hallway (a thought that never escaped him). When the younger alpha changed his pace to come back over to where Dick was standing, he couldn’t help but to pull the newest member of their pack under his arm. “Duke!” He chirped a little more excitedly. “What are you doing here?” If this were Damian, or even Tim, they would have tolerated (poorly) the arm that he had around their shoulders. They would not however be so complicit in the way that Dick was shamelessly scenting the top of the baby alpha’s head or the nip at his cheek there after. Admittedly, his and Duke’s bond was still too new and forging for either of them to react so flippantly. Duke would accept his scenting as a way to strengthen their bond, or reject him as pack all together.

Duke’s scent was something so different than anyone else in the pack, smelling sweetly of honey and the underlying tone of milky innocence that all pups had, his scent not yet turning spicy in the way that all matured alpha would. “During the break in school I decided to spend part of the time here” Duke finally answered in a lazy drawl, clearly not awake enough for anything more cognitive. Now that he could hear how tired Duke sounded, Dick could pick up on the little notes of sleepy, content pup in his scent, with how walking with him turned into Duke leaning further into his side in that aimless comfort seeking way. Not that Dick minded, he was happy to support the sleepy thing around the manor if he needed. It was outrageous to think of how soft and pliant the baby alpha was when he was tired; not at all like the hissing grouches that roamed these halls. He may be overcompensating with all of the affection he was giving Duke, clinging a little more than necessary because it was just so wild to him that he _could_. Not even Cass would allow for him to dote on her like this.

He couldn’t think of a single member in this house that would allow for him to chatter mindlessly as they went back down to the kitchen – Duke got up because his throat was too dry – and settle them with a glass of water at the breakfast bar. Either Duke was just as touch starved as he was, or this was a testament to how exhausted the little alpha was. Likely the latter considering that his offer of cake was turned down as Duke leaned into his arm atop the counter. Again, he would blame this solely on his out of touch mannerisms as of late to be finding the picture of Duke Thomas half dozing off in Alfred’s kitchen as endearing.

“Hey, Duke?” He didn’t get a real answer, more of this little sound that was halfway between a hum and a grunt. “Yeah, you’re really out of it. Come on, let’s get you up to bed.” Definitely beyond exhaustion if someone in this house willingly decided sleep was the better option.

Just as before, Duke allowed for him to drape an arm over his shoulder’s, leaning more heavily into his side on the way up than the way down (had they drugged the pup? He looked like he could fall asleep on his feet!). Dick had entirely forgotten his original mission in his catering to Duke until they were halfway down the hallway again. “Think you can make it back to bed by yourself? I gotta get out of these clothes before Alf sees me and has my hide for it.”

“I’m not useless” Duke defended himself, already slinking out from under his arm and waving him off with a silent thank you.

That should have been the end of it. Duke would go into his room for much needed shut up, Dick his own for a change and he’d be off again to find his next victim. Only Duke didn’t turn at the end of the hallway to head deeper into the second floor where his room was located. Duke had hobbled over to the door straight across from his own, ready to open the damn thing when Dick was steering him away like they avoided a bomb. Exhaustion wasn’t a question at this point, but his sobriety was. This kid had to be on the good stuff if he couldn’t even remember which door was his own.

“What are you doing Dick?” Huh, Duke sounded way more distressed about being lead away from the wrong room than he should. Poor thing.

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m taking you to your bed Duke.”

“But I’m sleeping in _there_.”

“I know whatever is going on with you is making you confused and this house is pretty confusing itself, trust me I got lost all the time, but that isn’t your room to sleep in.”

“I was sleeping in there when I got up to get a drink!”

Now Dick was starting to get a little agitated, because Duke shouldn’t be sleeping in there. Have at it in any other room in the house, even Bruce’s room, but _that_ room they were not supposed to go in. He really shouldn’t have to work to keep himself in control instead of snarling at the pup. He probably didn’t know better. “Well, you shouldn’t be.” And they were going to keep it at that. Duke shouldn’t have to be told who that room belonged to, and why they weren’t allowed inside.

Dick may not have snarled, but Duke did as he pulled out from the guiding hands at his shoulders. “You can’t tell me that I can’t sleep in there,”

“Duke,” He hissed warningly, apparently disregarded.

“Jason said I could sleep in there!”

“Jason wouldn’t -”

“No? Then why don’t you go ask him! He’s the one who told me to go get a drink of water.”

Now that had Dick frozen in place. There were a million things running through his head, all firing off at lightspeed and each just as relentless in tearing apart his mind. A variety of epic proportions and the first dumb thing out of his mouth was; “ _Jason’s here?_ ”

“Yes,” It was Duke who was sounding like his question was the odd one. “You can argue with him about it, but I’d like to go back to sleep.”

Before Duke could turn heel, he was pulling the weary pup back over, scenting him much more thoroughly (and much more unwelcome) and now he felt like an idiot for even missing it.

Sage and Ginger.

Underneath that sweet honey smell, under the muted milky scent of a tired pup was the smell of the pack’s omega. Of Jason. Duke smelt like he’d been bathing in it. And dammit, it made sense. How soft and pliant Duke was acting, coming fresh out of a warm nest, soaking up the attention from an older alpha like a spoiled pup. Duke’s haze was a cocktail of comforting pheromones meant to soothe a restless pup.

Jason was here, opening his nest to the baby alpha and comforting him as his own pup.

His hands were everywhere immediately; feeling for a fever at his forehead, checking for any sign of bruising or bandaging, turning Duke every which way to find whatever hurt must be present if Jason was coddling Duke. He felt almost frantic in his search, somewhere between grief in knowing that anything had happened to Duke and rage for whoever dared to do so.

“Will you stop it!” No, he would not stop looking until he found whatever it was that Jason saw and he didn’t. The smell of distress coming off of him didn’t help Dick’s paranoia as he continued the fruitless search, just to be shoved away with a scoff. “What are you even looking for? I’m fine! Look at me I’m fine!”

“Was it.. Is it something else? Did something else happen? Because I swear to you whoever -”

“Jesus Christ! Nothing happened! It’s just wednesday!” Wednesday. Like that would clear up all of the confusion swimming in his head. Duke was getting cozied up in Jason’s nest because it was Wednesday! The sky must be falling too, or he sprouted another head, just because it’s Wednesday. And then, to add to his brain that was already about to explode “You’re never here on Wednesday”

“No, I’ve seemed to have forgotten my cosmic knowledge on why I should be here on Wednesday.”

Duke sucked in a breath from his teeth, rubbing at his temples in a way that he knew was the influence of the omega. When had they gotten so close that Duke was picking up his mannerisms? When had this little alpha known so much more than him apparently, to be invited into Jason’s nest? When had -

“Stop it. Whatever you’re thinking, you’re starting to give me a headache. After the first month of me being here in the pack, and the little demon acting up, Jason started coming around on Wednesday to spend time with us. I really didn’t think it was a big deal. Damian is always bragging about how much more nest naps he gets than Tim and Cass, I just thought he was being a little shit. I didn’t know that actually getting to sleep in Jason’s nest, or even being invited in was some kind of lottery ticket around here. I thought it was normal for pu- _younger pack_ to sleep in the nest.”

“It is”

“Yeah, I know that. But that’s normal this is.. This is..”

“This is Jason.” He finished for Duke when he couldn’t come up with anything else. Dick understood, he really did. Jason was always particular in his nesting habits. Unlike so many omega, Jason didn’t find pieces and articles to put into his nest from his pack. Jason thought it was careless and messy. He’d never seen a more scornful look on a pup’s face when he offered up one of his favorite sweaters as a peace offering. Jason said that nesting was something that should be tactfully, that there shouldn’t just be ‘random ass shit creating chaos’ in his sacred space. Jason was much more calculating in what he built his nest out of. Pillows that absolutely needed to be switched back out every three weeks, blankets from their beds all layered in so meticulously you’d think he made a six point outline beforehand. He remembered having to mail his share of materials when he was with the Titans, how if he missed rotation by even the day he was given the cold shoulder and disallowed inside when he came back home. Dick remembered the way that Jason’s eyes shone brighter than anything in the Gotham sky when Big Blue showed up with the fluffiest quilt he’d ever seen sewn together by Ma Kent, smelling of rich Kansas air and the Kent’s collectively. It was like Jason was handed the key to the universe. No one, not even Alfred could offer up anything better than that big red and blue quilt. Bruce of course was beside himself with jealousy (not that Dick was spared from his own envy with how much love that stupid thing was given) that Jason preferred the warmth of Kent’s blanket with Kent’s scent on it as opposed to the many that he’d supplied the omega pup. There wasn’t a damn thing anyone could say to him to make him give it up. While eventually they would be allowed their own pieces once again and a sparing cuddle, it was nothing compared to that thing, all the way up until.. Until Ethiopia.

So forgive him if he felt justified in the jealous coiling in his belly that Jason had been back for three years now and he’s _never_ been asked for materials again, let alone allowed inside. Damian having these liberties made sense only after he’d put together the connection the two shared in the league. Naturally, it was only a matter of time that he’d been invited back into the nest when they both had a hand in raising the prickly pup. He’s seen it, only once through the window when the family was scouring the earth for the runaway pup. The way that Damian looked so content, so safe, Dick didn’t have the heart to be upset then.

Now? Now that he’d learned that not just Damian, but apparently Cass, Duke, and _Tim_ were all allowed – for months - and he wasn’t? That stung in a way that he didn’t have words for. He’d been patient before, understanding when no one else was, and what did that get him? Put out with the garbage! Dick was going to have words with this omega. He was going to chew Jason out, and then maybe even fight him. He was going to -

“Dick, you have this really murdery look on your face, and I don’t like it. I’m going back to bed, and I’m telling Jason that you’re acting like a lunatic in the hall.”

Oh! Because _he_ was the problem! Dick was following the baby alpha hot on his heels, not caring in the slightest that he was making Duke uncomfortable when there was blood to be shed over his betrayal – over this clear rejection.

“No.” Duke wouldn’t budge from the doorway, keeping his voice down into a angry whisper. “I’m tired and I don’t want you yelling and ruining the best sleep I’m going to get all week.”

“If you think that -”

“Lower your voice!” Duke hissed back, slightly pushing on Dick’s chest when he stepped forward again. “Tonight is my night to be a selfish bat. You aren’t coming in here with all of your stuffy alpha bullshit and ruining Jason’s mood and my nest nap. If you want in so bad, you better come back cooled off and changed. Honestly what the hell are you even wearing?”

Good grief! This is why he didn’t come around! This is why he’d stayed away the last six months for anything short of an earth shattering emergency! The judgment and the accusations that he didn’t know what he was doing, that he was acting out when he just wanted to be heard. He’s known Jason for a hell of a lot longer than Duke for him to be squaring his shoulders at him and pulling back his lip over fang and.. and defending the omega over a threat of an alpha.

Duke and his bond wasn’t full yet, they were still too new to each other. In this pack, he was the second alpha, the Lieutenant of sorts. And here Duke was, flashing his teeth at a higher alpha in the pack, and threatening to break their bond to protect the sanctity of Jason’s nest and the habits that came with it.

Dick was such an asshole.

“I’m uh, I’m going to go get changed.”

“You do that.” Credit given where credit is due, Duke stayed firmly planted as the silent guard at Jason’s door until Dick was shutting the door of his room.

If Duke didn’t already reek of distressed pup, Dick might not have entirely fucked this up.

He and Jason, they were treading on thin ice as it was. While he ought to have spent the better part of the last three years celebrating the omega’s return, most of it was spent in resentment and guilt. So much trauma, so much anger it was creating a sea between them. This whole time he’d been waiting for Jason to come back to him, for Jason to put back together what little (and laughable) bit that they had before. It was selfish to a point that was even hard for him to comprehend. And while he understood his own pride kept him in the wrong, Jason wasn’t a saint either. Jason was so willing to hurt him in the beginning, so willing to tear through him during his bloodlust there hadn’t been anything left to salvage.

The walk of shame back into the hallway after his change had never been more humiliating. Never did he think that a little alpha’s glare should be so heated and scrutinizing.

“I’m going in first, I don’t want him spooked by seeing you right away.” Duke looked hesitant then, like he really didn’t want to be helping out Dick in anyway. Dick couldn’t find it in himself to blame him. “You can say what you need to say, but the moment he wants you out, you better get. I’m not above telling Alfred you’re starting a discourse in the house.”

If he was uncertain before, that threat was enough to ensure him that Duke was every bit bat as the rest of them.

Dick knew he was not a patient man. He could play the part, but he wasn’t one who liked to sit on his hands. Never had he felt time tear at his skin more than those few moments that he waited outside the door, listening for rustling blankets and the quietest trill. In those few moments it was like being back in his room earlier that night; without direction, with all of his senses firing off at once and yet he still couldn’t connect to earth, trembling so deeply it rattled his bones. Because the waiting, not knowing if it was to last step he would take onto this ice before falling through was something of nightmares.

Dick’s never been more careful in his life than he was entering Jason’s room, his den, staying clear on the outskirts as not to offend by steeping too far in when he wasn’t invited. Save for the tiniest sliver of light from the hallway, the room was pitch black, making it impossible to see let alone sense anyone within the room. That is until he heard a deep inhale and a shuffling of blankets.

“Dickhead?”Christ, the voice startled him enough to actually jump, to press his back into the wall. This was stupid and Dick really should just leave this room. Forget about it all. Bury it so deep he wouldn’t be able to recall it if it every came back up. “Don’t just lurk in the fucking dark like a pervert, what are you doing in here?”

Jason sounded like he was one wrong breath away from getting up and punching him in his jaw. He spoke to Dick in a way that someone would speak to a pest, in a way that made his blood boil and the need for a growl to bubble past his lips. He’d swallow it down, wet his lips and keep himself centered because he’s always know that Jason’s been a testy little shit, always lashed out before anyone had the chance of striking first.

“I just..” He wanted to strangle Jason. He wanted to be so upset, to yell until his voice was raw and his throat bleeding. He wanted to pull up every single petty stupid thing he did, every single hit and bruise, every jab and sneer. “I just wanted to say goodnight, little wing.”

Dick could live with being a coward. He’d go downstairs, taunt Bruce into a shouting match, and unleash every ugly thing he’s kept buried down for months now. Dick was already heading back out the door when he felt a cold hand on his elbow, once more scaring him straight out of his skin.

“Did you want to stay?”

“No.” He shot back, too fast. He needed to leave, just like he needed to leave this part behind him.

“Bullshit you don’t.” Leave it to Jason, to say something so eloquent in a time like this. That tone was really starting to get on his nerves. He ought to turn around and shake the omega. Somewhere in translation that got mixed up, because instead of shaking the attitude out of Jason, he was being lead further into the room, left at the edge of the nest for him to decide if he was going to run or stay.

Maybe there really was something to this MAD business, in one moment he’s so upset he’s willing to risk Bruce’s wrath, and the next his crawling, collapsing, into the nest like a bumbling fool. One moment he wants to tear the omega’s throat out with his teeth, and the next he’s pressing his nose right into Jason’s scent gland at the back of his neck, dousing himself in the earthy sweetness of sage and ginger. One moment he’s quite literally shaking with rage and the next he feels like his bones are slipping from his body when he curls around Jason. He didn’t realize it at first, but he can hear it now, the soft hum of a purr coming from Jason’s chest, caressing his god damn soul with how earnest it sounds.

He came to the manor to keep his sanity and now he’s weeping like a pup into the crook of Jason’s neck, clinging to him like he’s the one that needs to be protected when that’s what he should be doing for the omega and baby alpha in this nest. He’s sobbing and hiccuping on top of the stupid red and blue blanket that he knows is there, and even if he can’t breathe right he keeps his face pressed close, overwhelming himself with the scent of _safe, home, love_.

The scent of sage and ginger.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I had wanted this to be way, way shorter. Just this tiny little fluffy thing that would describe a good nest day with Jason and maybe even the pups in the pack, but of course that wasn't how it ended up. So instead, I give you this little ditty that focused more on the perspective of a very angry Dickie boy who doesn't know what he's supposed to be doing with himself outside of Nightwing and his job at the BHPD, sound familiar? 
> 
> I liked the idea of unconventional nesting habits, of how picky Jason is with who and what he allows in his nest, and it being a complete kick in the face when what is allowed isn't Dick. Like, what gives Jason? It's an outrage. 
> 
> As always, Duke is a batboy. He will always be a batboy. We will die on this hill. 
> 
> Also, I wrote this with a stuffy head, so if it makes about a cows tongue of sense please, drag me for my sins.
> 
> Want to talk about it some more? Or throw me some tar? You know where to go.
> 
> [DeadShips](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/captaindeadships)


End file.
